


never gonna make it (if you waste your time)

by taywen



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Saving the Future by Changing the Past, comic canon has been cherry-picked for one (1) throwaway reference to Diego's secondary power, implied future character death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27277576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taywen/pseuds/taywen
Summary: “Are you from thefuture?” Five blurted out.Diego nodded.“What,” Five said quietly, but with feeling.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48
Collections: Time Oops Exchange 2020





	never gonna make it (if you waste your time)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



> title from "Everybody Knows (Unstoppable)" by Royal Deluxe.

“What the hell is your problem?” Five demanded, when they finally had a few brief, precious seconds alone after dinner. Klaus had disappeared as soon as Reginald dismissed them, Vanya and Ben were holed up in their respective rooms, and Allison and Luther were off together somewhere.

Diego didn’t bristle or get defensive, like he should have, though the innocent look he tried to adopt was hardly convincing. “What do you mean?”

Five narrowed his eyes. Diego didn’t tend to stutter when Reginald wasn’t around, though in high stress situations it still came out. Of course, Five wasn’t _Number One_ , they didn’t have that stupid, contrived rivalry going, but Diego still should’ve been— _affected_ by Five’s sudden confrontation.

“You’ve been watching me all day,” he said coolly. “You can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

The implication was subtle, but Diego was obsessed with his image; that would definitely get a rise out of him.

Diego shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Like _what_?” Five could feel his face scrunching up in outrage and confusion, but he couldn’t stop himself. Diego wasn’t a complete idiot, but he was no genius either. All that mattered to him was sucking up to Grace and trying futilely to beat Luther whenever their so-called Father pitted them against each other; those two things couldn’t take up _that much_ of his brain, and neither of them involved Five.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else.” Diego’s gaze was weirdly—intent. Five resisted the urge to make another jab at his sexuality: it was juvenile and beneath him and he tried not to waste time on strategies that were ineffective.

He looked away instead; meeting Diego’s eyes was harder than it should have been. A glance revealed that the dorm hallway was deserted, though they all knew how thin the walls were. And Reginald probably had cameras everywhere. Five hadn’t found any yet, but there were unaccounted for spaces in the mansion’s floor plan. Hidden rooms of some sort, no doubt. Who knew how many secrets Reginald kept from them? Pogo, maybe, and Five wouldn’t bet on him knowing _everything_ either. If Diego only wanted Five to know, then they couldn’t talk in the mansion.

“Griddy’s, tonight, at eleven. Don’t be late,” he added, jabbing a finger at Diego’s face.

Frustratingly, Diego didn’t react again. He hated people getting into his personal space and usually reasserted it forcefully. But his expression was—weird.

“Griddy’s at eleven,” Diego agreed calmly, and rather than shoulder past Five, he stepped carefully around him—even though he practically had to press up against the wall to do it—and headed for his room.

Five stared at his closed door until he heard Luther’s heavy tread on the stairs, Allison’s voice floating up beside it.

Ugh. Five hurried to his own room; ignorance was better. If Reginald ever realized what was going on between Luther and Allison, Five intended to have no idea when asked about it. Could anyone blame them for being close? It wasn’t like Reginald let them socialize with other kids their age.

He had physics homework to do—infinitely better than humanities work—but he couldn’t focus on it today. That strange expression on Diego’s face kept appearing in his mind’s eye.

It was a lot like the way Allison and Luther looked at each other when they forgot themselves. Not exactly the same, or else Diego probably would have reacted to Five’s insinuations one way or another, but—very similar.

 _Fond_.

Five stared blankly at his problem set. He and Diego weren’t close. Sure, they were all siblings, but it was blatantly obvious that Reginald’s methods of childrearing were unconventional. And that was putting it nicely. He was moulding them into a team of soldiers, not a family, no matter what he told the media. They were comrades in arms but not _friends_.

So Diego had no business looking at Five with that kind of—fondness.

* * *

Diego was nowhere in evidence when Five got to Griddy’s ten minutes early, but that wasn’t surprising. No one could sneak out as easily as Five.

He ordered a plain donut and picked at it slowly while he waited. The shop was usually pretty deserted at this hour, and tonight was no exception.

Eleven o’clock passed, but Five was inclined to be gracious—for a few minutes. Then another five passed. A quarter after came and went. Five scowled down at his half-eaten donut. What he really wanted was a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, but unless he wanted to warp back to the Academy—or a twenty-four hour convenience store—that was beyond his reach.

(What he _really_ wanted was Diego to show up already and explain what the hell was going on.)

The bell above the door jingled at 11:31, but it was just some adult working the night shift or whatever, looking for some coffee. Five ground his teeth together, tapping his fingers against the table. The remains of his donut had long since been shredded to pieces.

There was still no sign of his _least favourite_ , _most aggravating_ brother when Five finally left at a quarter to midnight.

* * *

Diego was absent from breakfast the next morning too, and he _never_ missed breakfast. Reginald was always going on about proper nutrition, but that wasn’t why: Grace always served them breakfast, and Diego—well, Five had always thought Grace was the member of their screwed up family that Diego was closest to. Kind of messed up that she was literally a robot, but what did any of them know about a normal life?

“Have you seen Diego?” Five asked Klaus.

Klaus shrugged. “No. Although I heard Dad giving him an earful in the hallway last night.”

“Yeah, I think he was trying to sneak out,” Ben added. Vanya nodded, looking grave.

“You didn’t hear anything?” Klaus looked far too knowing.

“No, must’ve slept right through it,” Five lied, smiling, then applied himself to the rest of the meal.

As soon as he finished eating, Five warped to the classroom. Diego was already slouched at his desk, pale and miserable-looking; the dark bags under his eyes only heightened the effect. It was only a few steps away, but Five warped in front of his desk anyway.

“Heard you got caught sneaking out.”

Diego straightened, his eyes widening. “I did, yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face; he really looked exhausted. “Sorry about that.”

“I wasn’t waiting for more than an hour. Looks like you got the worse deal anyway.”

Diego’s mouth thinned. “The submersion tank,” he muttered. “I forgot how shitty it is.”

It had been a while since Reginald had stuffed Diego into the massive water tank and left him there. Supposedly it was to train his ability to hold his breath indefinitely, but Five had also heard Reginald say to Pogo that that particular aspect of Diego’s powers was relatively useless. But then, all of them knew the individual, specialized training that Reginald thought up for each of them was little different from a punishment anyway.

“I’ll sneak out with you tonight,” Five offered, surprising both of them. “Since you can’t do it yourself,” he added quickly: he was still unwillingly intrigued by Diego’s uncharacteristic behaviour, that was all.

Diego smiled faintly. “Thanks, that’d be helpful.”

Five narrowed his eyes, but Diego looked like he was two seconds away from dozing off, and Klaus and Ben’s voices drifted in from the hallway too. Reluctantly, he went to his own desk, preparing for their first class as the rest of their siblings filtered in. Exactly on the hour, Reginald strode in, taking his customary place at the head of the room.

And then Diego hadn’t completed his physics homework when Reginald told them to hand their assignments in. He hadn’t even started it. Everyone stared at him in disbelief.

“Why do we need to learn all of this?” Diego had never sounded so defiant before. None of them had. Five stared at the side of his head, wondering what the fuck was happening. “Are we supposed to go to college after we graduate from the Umbrella Academy or something?”

Klaus coughed, probably swallowing a laugh.

“Honing your intellect is equally as important as your physical training, Number Two,” Reginald said coldly. “Though in your case the effort is likely a futile one. Your grades are consistently at or near the bottom of the group, and your physical abilities are nothing exceptional. Perhaps if you applied yourself to your training rather than attempting to sneak out—”

A muscle in Diego’s jaw tensed; the one hand Five could see was balled into a fist. If he kept arguing with Reginald, who knew how long he’d get in the submersion tank? It wasn’t like Five could get in there—

“I was going to help him with his assignment,” Five blurted out. “That’s why he tried to sneak out last night. Sir.”

Everyone’s heads swiveled to him. Their other siblings’ expressions ranged from outrage, confusion and—glee? Klaus took way too much pleasure in family drama, but it wasn’t like there was much else to find joy in in their lives. Diego looked—rueful. Five didn’t even dare look at Reginald.

Reginald didn’t address him either. “If you required additional tutoring, Number Two, you should have applied to myself or Pogo for aid. There is no excuse for upsetting your siblings’ educations. I don’t _care_ if you feel jealous or inferior.”

After a beat, Diego turned to look at Reginald. “Got it, Dad. I’ll talk to Pogo after class.” His smile was too wide, obviously insincere even from Five’s angle.

Reginald’s face was set in forbidding lines as he stared Diego down, but all he said was, “See that you do,” curtly. Then he turned to the chalkboard and began to teach.

* * *

Despite his obvious exhaustion, Diego somehow beat Luther in a bout during this physical training that afternoon.

Five didn’t notice at first; he almost broke Ben’s nose before he realized that Ben had stopped paying attention and was staring in disbelief at something over Five’s shoulder. It was for the best that Five managed to check his swing; the Horror sometimes reacted on its own if Ben was distracted or caught off guard.

Five turned reluctantly, uncertain what to expect.

Reginald was observing them all from the far end of the training room, Vanya standing dutifully at his side with a clipboard. He had a sour look on his face as he gazed down at the pair in front of him: Luther sprawled out on the thin mat, a bruise already rising on one cheek, with Diego standing above him, stance still at the ready.

“Did Diego actually—?” Ben whispered, though the disbelieving words were clearly audible in the dead silence that had fallen over the room.

“Got lucky.” Diego shifted into a stance as dismissive as his words, casually slouching as he examined the knuckles of his right fist. Utterly oblivious to the atmosphere.

Luther sat up slowly, wiping the back of one hand over his mouth. There was a flash of red when he drew his hand away. “It was a solid hit, Diego.”

“Nah, it was a lucky strike,” Diego said.

“Seriously, good job, Diego! I don’t think any of us have knocked Luther down without our powers before,” Klaus said enthusiastically. “Uh, no offense, Luther. You’re the strongest fighter, after all.”

Luther shrugged. “None taken.”

“I suppose your physical abilities are not entirely hopeless,” Reginald said, his harsh words falling like a meteor on the tentatively upbeat conversation. In its obliterating wake, only tense, awkward silence remained.

“Thanks, Dad.” Diego’s head was angled away from their father (and Vanya), but the other members of the Umbrella Academy could easily see the bitter smile that crossed his face.

“Now, do it again,” Reginald ordered. “And the rest of you—get back to work!”

Five and Ben automatically moved to opposite ends of the mat again, settling into ready positions. Five couldn’t focus on the spar, though. Diego had been acting strangely yesterday and today. Maybe knocking Luther down had been luck only—but that didn’t explain his nonchalant reaction. Diego had been chasing Luther’s shadow since before they could all walk. Their rivalry was as constant as the phases of the moon.

So what did it mean when Number Two no longer cared about beating Number One?

* * *

Diego had tutoring with Pogo after supper; Five waited impatiently, rushing through his homework, then going over it again when Diego still hadn’t come back to his room. He ended up falling asleep at his desk, rousing with a flinch when someone knocked softly at the door. He looked around wildly, his gaze falling on the clock: it was after ten.

Diego’s familiar footsteps creaked away across the floorboards, and a few seconds later a door clicked shut further down the hall.

Five rubbed at his mouth, looking with dismay at the drool stain on his English essay. Pogo probably wouldn’t care though, and he was the one who marked their humanities assignments. Then he straightened his uniform, ending with a check that his shoelaces were tied properly—and forced himself to stop stalling.

He took a breath, and warped into Diego’s room.

“Hey.” Diego didn’t look surprised to see him. He’d taken off his blazer and was pulling a dark hoodie on instead. Combined with the plain slacks of their cold-weather uniform, there was nothing to identify him as a member of the Umbrella Academy. He could’ve been any normal kid their age. The transformation was jarring, like the boy standing before him was someone Five didn’t know.

“Hey,” Five said belatedly, trying to stop staring.

“Ready to go?”

Five glanced down at himself: he was still wearing the blazer with the Umbrella Academy crest, and the distinctive plaid sweater-vest—

“It’s fine, but if you want to change, you can,” said Diego.

Five scowled. He didn’t need Diego’s _permission_. “Let’s go then.”

He didn’t appreciate the poorly-hidden smile on Diego’s face as Five led him carefully out of the mansion, but he wasn’t willing to stop and scold Diego for it when any sound might alert Reginald to their illicit activities.

They both relaxed once they were outside, Diego giving a whoop of laughter as they started down the street towards Griddy’s.

“You’re acting seriously weird!” The words came out more accusatory than Five intended.

“Makes sense.”

Five let loose the growl of frustration that had been churning inside him since the night before. “What the _hell_ does that _mean_?!”

Diego glanced at him. “I’ll tell you when we get to Griddy’s. Unless you want to talk now?” As he spoke, Griddy’s distinctive neon sign came into view around the corner.

Five glared, then stalked towards the donut shop. Diego kept up easily, annoyingly enough. Five was holding out for a growth spurt to push him past the lower numbers, but in the meantime he had to deal with the indignity of being the second shortest.

“Damn this is nostalgic,” Diego said once they were safely ensconced in the usual booth at Griddy’s. Five resisted the urge to strangle him and settled for kicking him in the shin. “Ow!”

“Oops, I slipped.” Five gave him the wide smile that never failed to piss his siblings off.

Diego muttered darkly, then shook his head, visibly putting his annoyance aside. “All right,” he said, still quiet but loud enough for Five to hear, “this is—weird. This wasn’t really planned, okay? It was always more of a what-if. Never got past the conceptual stage. And I was never the prime candidate.”

Five nodded, reining in his impatience.

“Sorry, before I get into that—I just want to ask you one question.”

“Ugh, _what_?” Five demanded.

“You’ve been thinking about trying to jump through time, not just space, haven’t you?”

Five stiffened. He hadn’t told Diego about that. He hadn’t told _any_ of his siblings about that. Reginald had theorized that it was possible, but considered the risks too great to attempt; Five had only recently mastered his spatial jumps to the extent that he felt confident enough to try traveling through time. He hadn’t even raised the matter with Reginald.

Diego nodded, like Five’s silence was answer enough. “Please don’t.” A possible—and fairly compelling—explanation for Diego’s behaviour suddenly occurred to Five. But it was also so outlandish that he hesitated to even say it aloud.

“Are you from the _future_?” Five blurted out.

Diego nodded again.

“What the fuck,” Five said quietly, but with feeling. Diego calmly took a bite of his donut, apparently content to let Five try to deal with this new information in his own time (ha).

Refusing to believe in time travel when he was literally considering attempting it himself would be the height of hypocrisy. But his method would—in theory—bring his body as well as his consciousness to a different point in time. By contrast, Diego looked the same as he had two days ago; the only difference was his behaviour. He could’ve been faking it—but there was no way he could keep up the charade for this long. And he’d never jeopardize his position as Number Two with the kind of defiance he’d shown Reginald that morning for a _prank_. The only reasonable explanation was that his older, more mature consciousness had been transferred into his twelve year old body, ridiculous as that seemed.

“Prove it.”

Diego held up one finger, his cheeks puffed out with donut. After a moment, he swallowed and took a drink of water. “Vanya has powers.”

“ _What_.”

“I know it’s hard to believe. But Reginald thought she was too powerful to control, so he had Allison Rumour her into forgetting she had them, and told us all that she was ordinary.”

Maybe the act of physically digesting would help him digest what Diego was telling him. Five took a bite of his donut. Unfortunately, Diego had ordered for both of them, and there was an excessive amount of sticky chocolate frosting on Five’s donut. He grimaced and wiped his fingers on a napkin, but eating it had helped him think.

“Do they have marshmallow-filled donuts in the future?”

Diego stared at him blankly, then burst out laughing. “I’m—sorry,” he gasped, before Five could get really angry. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not something that I would ever eat, and Five—Five from the future, I mean—never mentioned it.”

How disappointing. Five would definitely have told his siblings if such a thing existed, unless he had an incredibly compelling reason not to. That kind of scenario was even harder to imagine, so that probably meant marshmallow-filled donuts didn’t exist. On to the next most pressing issue: “I assume Vanya learns to use her powers in the future?”

Diego hummed. “Sort of? It’s—complicated. But I was sent back to change all of that, and we’ll help her learn to use them this time.”

The implication of what had happened the first time was troubling, but Five let it pass. “So, is anyone else in the family harbouring a dark secret?”

“Dad’s an alien.”

Five seriously contemplated warping back to his room at the Academy and forgetting about Diego’s time travel/prank/delusion entirely. He settled for kicking Diego in the shin again twice more, in the same spot as before.

Diego winced, his face screwing up in pain. “I’m serious! But that one’s a lot harder to prove. I know how to get Vanya to access her powers, that’ll be enough to convince you.”

Five absently took another bite of his donut and regretted it a second later. He dropped it back on the plate and shoved it away in disgust. “So what’s our first step?”

“Huh?”

“You obviously have some _semblance_ of a plan. I’m assuming you confided in me because I’m the most likely of our siblings to believe you. The fact that you told me at all means you need my help to carry out that plan. So what is the first event that we need to change or avoid?”

Diego was looking at him fondly again. “I don’t think I ever realized how far ahead you were, the first time around.”

Five looked away, scanning the shop. It was empty, apart from the waitress behind the counter, flipping lazily through a magazine. They—the Hargreeves siblings—didn’t really go around complimenting each other, and definitely not this freely. “I’ve been mulling over the problem of time travel for some time now,” he said a few moments later. “Going back in time to warn myself or others about disasters and the like was one of the first applications that occurred to me.”

“Of course it was. This whole thing was my Five’s—well, _future Five’s_ —idea in the first place.” Diego popped the last of his donut in his mouth, then drained his glass of water.

“So: step one. I think we still have time to stop this, but not much, and it’s gonna be complicated if we don’t want to resort to murder. I’m not down for that,” Diego added warningly, like he thought—

Like he thought Five would be.

Five swallowed, but it didn’t help with his suddenly dry mouth. He took a long sip from his own glass, and leaned forward. “Who?”

“Kid by the name of Harold Jenkins. He was born on the same day as all of us, but it was a normal pregnancy. His mother died in childbirth, and his father became an abusive alcoholic.” Diego picked up a teaspoon that had probably been forgotten by the previous patrons, twirling it absently in his fingers. “He was obsessed with the Umbrella Academy. Probably still is, actually. He tried to follow us into the Academy after a mission, saying that he was one of us, but Reginald sent him packing.”

“That does sound like him.”

Diego’s mouth quirked faintly. “Yeah. But I think you’d remember that, it was a pretty big scene. It didn’t happen yet, right?” When Five shook his head, he went on, “Great. So we assumed the reason Jenkins was so obsessed with us is because of his abusive father, who he kills after Reginald rejects him and then goes on to cause a whole bunch of shit once he gets out of jail. Obviously, there’s no way to convince Reginald to adopt him, but we need him to not hate our fucking guts.”

“Did we join in or something? Did Reginald get Luther to toss him out into the street? Why would he hate _us_?” Wasn’t it _obvious_ who the driving force behind the Umbrella Academy was? They weren’t even teenagers yet!

“We didn’t do anything, unless you count not getting between him and Reginald. But people’s reactions aren’t always predictable or rational, especially victims of abuse or trauma. It’s better if we can just avoid the public humiliation and ruined hopes and dreams altogether.”

“You don’t want us to just murder Jenkins’ father, Reginald would _never_ adopt someone out of the goodness of his heart—”

“—if he even has one,” Diego muttered. “Who knows what his alien biology—” Five pointed a finger at him, and Diego obediently shut his mouth.

“—so that leaves… You and me saving him from his father? Somehow?” Reginald was also the one who did all of the mission planning, though he was training them to take it up at some unknown time in the future. But for now that was one responsibility he wasn’t ready to lay on the shoulders of a bunch of twelve year olds. Usually, Five was glad about that.

“Actually, I just meant we can’t kill Jenkins. _Harold_ Jenkins. His dad is fair game.” Diego tapped the end of the spoon against the table, his eyes distant.

Diego thought Five would be okay with _killing a kid their age_ who was _abused_. Who cared if he was driven to murder his father later? He hadn’t done it yet, and Five definitely had some patricidal fantasies of his own on bad days at the Academy. Wait, was that why—

“Maybe this can be a two birds, one stone thing,” Diego mused. “We tell Vanya about her powers, then get her onboard with teaming up by taking her on an unofficial mission to save Harold.”

Five made a noncommittal sound. Diego was mostly talking to himself anyway. Five pulled his donut back over and flipped it frosting side down, tearing into the soft pastry underbelly just to have something to do with his hands.

“We should probably keep her knowledge of her powers a secret from Reginald; I don’t know how he would react to her powers being revealed. We’re too old for him to hide it again. But are we old enough to keep that secret?”

“We’re twelve,” Five pointed out.

“Yeah.” Diego paused, then squinted at him. “Wait, are you saying that a bunch of twelve year olds can’t keep it secret, or that they can?”

“Well you didn’t even last a day before I noticed something was up with you, and you’re—how old are you, exactly?”

“Thirty—two? The timelines are a little confused. Keeping track of that was more your and Lila’s thing. Uh, future you.”

 _Obviously_ Diego meant Five’s future self. Who might not even come to exist now, if Diego’s actions managed to change the timeline. And who the hell was _Lila_? God. Five stuffed a shred of donut into his mouth, chewing furiously. It didn’t help his burgeoning headache or any of the other turmoil he was experiencing in the slightest.

“Do you know the date Harold tries to join us?” Five asked.

Diego grimaced. “No.”

“So we need to act fast. You obviously think it’s going to happen soon. We can’t let him meet Reginald at all.”

“Exactly.”

“Are the other things all this complicated?” They couldn’t be, right? There was no way—

“Well.” Diego’s mouth twisted. “The biggest one is that Ben gets killed on a mission when we’re seventeen. But that should be a lot easier to avoid!” he added quickly, apparently noticing Five’s shock and horror. “We’ll probably have Vanya on the team and you—uh. You’ll know what’s coming, and maybe we’ll tell the others too. There’s five years between now and then. We’ll definitely figure it out.”

Five gave in and rubbed at his aching temples. “Okay. Our top priority is Harold. And Vanya.” Her powers must be strong if Diego thought she took precedence. And there was the fact that Reginald had apparently deemed her too volatile to control.

“Maybe Lila too? No, because the Commission is gone for good, so—you know what, we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it,” Diego said, setting his spoon down with a finality that Five felt, strongly, was not warranted.

There was one other question that he’d avoided asking; he didn’t even want to think about it now, but—Diego had said he was sent back, and he’d also said that Five shouldn’t attempt to time jump. That implied that he had managed it, with some degree of success, and not long from now in Diego’s original timeline. So why hadn’t Five himself come back? Why was Diego sent? Had _Five_ sent Diego? Or was there some other mechanism for time travel or consciousness transfer that hadn’t been invented yet or wasn’t widely known?

“Am I dead in the future?” Five’s voice cracked in the middle, embarrassingly, completely ruining his attempt to be casual.

“You sent me back,” Diego said, which wasn’t a denial. “Your future self figured out a way to send my consciousness back, but time travel of any sort is—damaging. Future you had done a lot of it by then, and he didn’t know if he’d manage the jump intact. We decided that I should be sent instead.”

“What about the others?”

Diego looked down, his hands curling into fists against the tabletop. “It was just me and Five by then. But if—but _when_ we save Harold, and tell Vanya the truth, and save Ben, that’ll be enough change to avert the future that I know.”

There were a lot of variables, and that was just based on what Diego had told him. Who knew how much he hadn’t thought to say, or was deliberately hiding?

Well, if it all went to hell, Five could always jump forward like he’d been offhandedly planning for the past year or so. Surely everything would be resolved then.

**Author's Note:**

> [later]
> 
> Five: am I taller in the future?  
> Diego: uhhh—  
> Five: I’m not? wait, if Ben is dead then... I’m the SHORTEST!?  
> Diego, internally: (I mean it’s technically not a lie—)  
> Diego: yep, sorry. maybe eat something other than those marshmallow sandwiches, buddy.  
> Five: the future fucking sucks.


End file.
